


There's Only One 'S' in Desert

by Usedtobehmc



Category: Christian Bible (New Testament), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Crowley is profoundly misunderstood, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 03:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19804216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Usedtobehmc/pseuds/Usedtobehmc
Summary: "I showed him all the kingdoms of the world."It's about 31 A.D. and Crowley, then Crawley, is instructed to tempt some poor sod in the desert.  It doesn't quite go as planned, and Crowley improvises.(An exploration of how Crowley was involved in the temptation of Christ, and how deeply he was affected after the crucifixion)





	There's Only One 'S' in Desert

Crawley squinted against the harsh light of the sun, reflected off the rocks and sand. His superiors below had given him this location as their hot tip for the year. A place of great importance, where it would be a massive victory for Hell if he were to be successful in a temptation to end all temptations. 

It was very quiet out here and silence made him antsy. He did well in crowds where the hustle and bustle could swallow him up and grant him anonymity in a sea of chaos. Out here in the desert it was only the sound of the wind and the occasional critter to distract him from his thoughts. 

He pulled his head covering down and felt the breeze on his neck for just a moment. He sniffed the air and turned. There, in the distance was the kneeling figure of a man, hands clenched and head bent in intense prayer. 

Crawley approached quietly, head tilted in curiosity. He’d certainly heard a lot about this man from down below, mostly that he was destined for greatness. There were murmurs that he was pre-ordained to be the single most powerful man in history, and one persistent rumor pegged him as the  _ literal _ son of God. Indeed he had a powerful aura about him, much closer to the likes of his acquaintance Aziraphale than to humans. He didn’t doubt this was that prophesied man… He had just pictured him differently. Maybe bigger? More intimidating? Certainly not this average-looking carpenter with unkempt hair, lower-class clothes, and calloused hands with dirty fingernails. 

The man turned suddenly, regarding Crawley with piercing, soulful eyes. “Ah,” he breathed. “Thou art Satan.”

“No, I’m afraid. Not quite as famous as that.” Crawley selected a rock nearby to sit on and got comfortable, adjusting his robes which were still black as pitch despite the arid heat.

The man scrubbed the back of his hand across his brow and sagged to the ground, leaning against a boulder. “No, not Satan. But your early deeds inform the world to this day. Forgive me for my mistake, I have been out here for some days and I had always heard and been warned that Satan was quite beautiful.”

Crawley shrugged as though to say “you’re forgiven” and cast his gaze to the ground. A  _ compliment,  _ now that felt strange. It had been a while since a human had shown him even that much kindness and it threw him for a loop. Hardly anyone ever mentioned his hair and its strange color; they usually went right for the eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to find his voice again. “How many days?” 

“Eleven. No… twelve. Yes, twelve days. I was guided here by my Father’s holy spirit. Instructed to fast and to pray for his wisdom. And so here I wait. Would you like to pray with me? You, who are red like embers?”

“Crawley. And I’ll pass on the old, praying-to-God. I’ve found it hasn’t really done me much good altogether.” He glanced over the immediate area, but found only sand and pebbles. “Where’s your food? What have you been eating out here? Menu seems a bit limited.”

“I’m fasting. I’ve had no food nor water since I’ve arrived.”

“You what? For 12 days?”

The man smiled gently, gesturing upwards. “I trust in Him and He has miraculously kept me alive. For what purpose I know not yet.”

Crawley felt an inexplicable pang of something akin to empathy for this man. He must have been suffering terribly in this heat with no water or food. “Stranded in the blazing heat with nothing to eat sounds more like something my lot would do. Look, mate. I could whip you up a quick something. Just to hold you over, like.” Crawley reached for a rock at his feet and as his fingers closed around it, it changed to a loaf of bread: crispy and fresh, with an aroma that even he would describe as heavenly. 

As soon as the man laid eyes on it, an expression of awe crossed his features and tears sprung to his eyes. He reached out for the bread with a reverent, shaking hand and took hold of it, feeling its warmth. “A  _ miracle _ .”

The place that would have held Crawley’s heart if he’d been human ached. He hoped God hadn’t led this poor fellow out into the desert to die a painful, sun-bleached death. He eased himself from the rock onto the dirt next to the man. “Watch this,” he tapped the bread once and a whole fish popped into existence on top of it, startling the man so hard that he dropped both. Crawley couldn’t stop a proud smirk from gracing his features: humans were so easy to impress it was completely unfair. 

The man’s eyes shone with unshed tears and he laughed giddily, holding a hand to his head. “Food from nothing, sustenance from the void.” He turned his penetrating stare back to Crawley. “You could feed the poor, the sick and starving. I’ve… I’ve seen the hungry ribs of so many children...” 

Crawley was suddenly pulled into the fiercest hug he’d ever received. The man was sobbing into his shoulders, praying through his tears. His stomach twisted: hugs felt pretty nice. No wonder humans gave them all the time to each other. Crawley’s own hands flailed a moment and then settled on the man’s back. He patted the man awkwardly once or twice before losing hi nerve completely. “Listen, listen. Pull yourself together,” he murmured, entirely  _ uncomfortable _ with how…  _ comfortable _ this human was with him.

A flash appeared in his mind, a single image of this man bloodied and strung up for the world to see, covered in blood and screaming in agony. Tortured and slowly dying. It was rare that Crowley saw into the future, but it did occasionally happen, and he’d learned to trust his brief visions. For a moment, he lost his breath. 

This man was not long for the world. He had only a few years left, and that was a generous estimate. 

Disentangling himself, Crawley pushed a rock into the man’s hands. “If the rumors are true, you can do anything I can do and more. Give it a try. Honestly, it’s not even close to my most impressive tricks.”

The man looked down at the rock in his hand and covered it with the other. Sure enough, with barely any concentration the rock was transformed into a loaf of bread. 

The man suddenly had no more tears to shed. Crawley was aware that the whole tone of their meeting had shifted now. He wondered if the man had received the same vision of the future. “What else…” he croaked, clearing his throat. “What else can I do?” 

“Has no one ever…  _ told you _ ?” 

“My mother saw an angel when I was conceived. The Lord appeared to me when I was baptized no more than a month ago. But…” 

Crawley knew this was definitely NOT why head office had sent him to this location on this day. He was most certainly NOT supposed to be helping this man. He was NOT supposed to feel sympathy and affection for a carpenter from Galilee, and he hated himself for it. 

“Crawley,” the man stood for the first time since they’d begun speaking, and the serpentine demon realized he had almost a full head of height over him. “In my heart I don’t feel worthy of these gifts. And I feel such shame for thinking that the Almighty has made a mistake. I know so little of the world. Just a carpenter.” 

Most humans, when asked what they would do if they only had a year left on Earth, would say they’d travel the world. 

Crawley had an idea.

  
  


******************

A little over a decade later, Crowley sat in a tavern with Aziraphale and consumed one drink after another while his old associate from the garden chittered away about local cuisine. The blond angel had been raving about oysters and delicious foods he’d been trying over the years and making recommendations despite Crowley’s obviously black mood. 

“Oh by the way,” Aziraphael mentioned, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I’ve managed to secure a copy of what the Christians are calling their holy book. Besides that it’s just the Torah with some juicy new chapters, there are some interesting bits in there that I wanted to ask you about.”

“Fire away,” Crowley miracled his glass full of more liquor and set about to sipping. He kept his gaze down. 

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale slumped a bit in his seat, derailed in his line of questioning by Crowley’s clear lack of interest. “By the way, what happened to all of your hair?”

“Cut if off.”   
  


“But why?”

Crowley shrugged. “Had a bad day few years back. Wanted something different.” He still remembered that day clearly, having wandered East for almost a day after the carpenter from Galilee had taken his last shuddering breath. He'd reached the Dead Sea and cut off his maroon tresses one by one, kneeling where the water met sand. 

Aziraphale seemed to accept this explanation, but his features still held a conflicted expression. “Well, it will grow back in any case. Not that it’s not fetching now, as it is, but… Your long hair was rather beautiful.”   
  


Crowley shot him a sharp look over the tops of his dark glasses. 

“Like embers,” Aziraphale finished, turning his attention back to his oysters. 

In the din of the tavern, men and women socialized and laughed over the meals. The sun began to set and the temperature cooled, so patrons began to light candles. Crickets began to chirp nearby. 

In the corner, Aziraphale thought of more foods he wanted to try and a single tear slipped down Crowley’s cheek, fizzling out of existence before anyone else could notice. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Here is the part in the bible that Aziraphale was referring to: https://www.biblica.com/bible/niv/luke/4/  
> (Luke 4: 1-13)
> 
> You'll notice that the story of what actually happened changed to support the opinions of the bible's pen-holders.   
> ****


End file.
